Rescue Team Chaotix
by SomeCallMeTerrible
Summary: The Chaotix are a team of five: Knuckles, Espio, Vector, Charmy, and Mighty. However. not all is well, as one by one the Chaotix wind up in the World of Pokémon. Now, it's up to them to guard the rest of the fabled Time Stones and return what was taken unjustly from the people of the world. They are here to do what's right, even if it costs them greatly. Extreme AU.
1. Chapter 1

Knuckles the Echidna _wasn't _much of a silent type. However, being kidnapped from the Chaotix headquarters and sent to this weird place isn't exactly Knuckles' idea of fun. The Echidna looked around his strange room, purple-tinted black eyes shone in a dull lustre with the light provided by the concrete barred window. He did, however, have to admire the dedication required to put him into a concrete-and-steel building without an enterance, that must have taken quite some effort.

Without a warning, a voice resonated around the grey chamber, its gender indeterminate. Little would he want to admit it, he jumped out of fright into unconsciousness at the voice's suddenness.

Blackness. Nothing but the eternal dark.

Then the voice spoke:

**Welcome, traveller. You are here, of your will or not, because you're needed. You see, one of the Time Stones have been disturbed. Time has stopped in a large part of our world. You must get it back before it is too late, the stoppage is spreading!**

_Hmph. Fine, what's the deal with kidnapping me, though?_

**Would you have accepted otherwise? **the voice asked in the tone one might take while answering a question as simple as "what is 1+2?".

_I suppose not, but can I at least have more information? _the Echidna asked, fixing his hat.

**Very well. The Time Stones were created many generations ago, seventy to be exact, because time fluctuations ran rampant. So, our forefathers embedded their powers into four stones, located in the townships of Liban, Columbia, Dunsop, Albion, Lobéké, Zaire, and Yaizu, Yamato. They were protected by the four guardians, Gwilym the Brave of Cambria, Kaspar the Wise of Österreich, Mihovil the Strong of Hrvaška, and Paolo the Good of Etruscia. **

**Decades, nay, centuries elapsed, the protectors grew weary and so retired, for the new generation to guard. However, some Time Stones were weaponised. The Timekeepers, as they became known, started threatening their lands with time irregularities, with a list of demands in hand. **

**They could not be battled by the other Keepers, as they could not leave their guard or take it with them. Over time, the corruption spread. The Keepers became a force of moderate evil. However, a sacrifice of ten percent of the quadrant's money would keep them at bay. The final generation of Timekeepers died two hundred years ago. Now, the stones are left unguarded. It's, honestly, fascinating that they haven't been stolen yet.**

**Now, I move on to our world. Our world is populated with species commonly known under the collective name of Pokémon, a leftover of the Anthropic Era, a time where the world was dominated by a species known as Humans. It is a shortened form of Pocket Monsters, from when we were captured and kept in containers which would convert us into magnetic data and store us in the hard disk of the aforementioned container.**

**Now, I will test your personality, to determine your worthiness.**

The room turned from a dark cell to a monochromatic plasma as Knuckles' vision was flooded with various colours of general nomenclature, otherwise known as reds and oranges.

_Sure, go ahead. _It then dawned on the Echidna that he'd been awfully level-headed this entire conversation, if you could call it that.

**A delinquent is hassling a girl on a busy street! What will you do?**

_Help! I'm not afraid of anything!_

**Good . . . A foreign person has started up a conversation with you. To be honest, you don't have a clue what this fellow is saying. How do you reply?**

_Uh, nijak govorit Deutschen! Skazhite o ano?_

**( . . . Huh?!) Anyway, A friend brought over something you'd forgotten. How do you thank your friend?**

_I'd say thanks. You know, like a normal Mobian. Are you questioning me?!_

**. . . A test is coming up. How do you study for it?**

_Eh, in all honesty, I'd probably put it off. Who's got the time when I've got a job and a Master Emerald to guard?_

**( . . . A guardian?) Are there many things you would like to do?**

_Finish off my mortal enemy, Ivo Robotnik. Go to Australia. Find my joint. So yeah, I guess there are._

**(No real point in asking, but . . . ) Are you a cheerful personality?**

To which Knuckles spat out his drink, if he had one. _No._

**Can you focus on something you like?**

_Yeah, generally. Well, I do forget about many things, though. I can't remember what I've forgotten, though. That's strange._

**( . . . Okay?) Can you go into a haunted house?**

_I am not afraid of ghosts, if you're askin'._

**Do you dream of lounging around idly without much excitement?**

_Yeah I do. Imagine that, a beach scene, there's women on one hand . . ._

**(Oh my Arceus, he's still talking!)**

_. . . And I'd get drunk with Mighty and Ray._

**(Don't really care.) Do you fall asleep without noticing?**

_All the bloody time._

**(Oh no . . .)Do you like groan-inducing puns?**

_Okay, so uh, one day, my friends Ray and Mighty, you don't know them . . ._

**(Arceus damn you, Boss. Why'd I have to get **_**this **_**job instead of being in accounting?!)**

_. . . and so he said "I'll be ripe back!"_ Knuckles chortled.

**(Groan!) **

**Do you like to imagine things for your own amusement?**

_You mean like beating Rouge half to death? Yeah, I guess I do._

**(OH **_**ARCEUS**_**, What is THIS?!) Do you like to noisily . . . squeal, **_**enjoy**_** yourself with others?**

_Uh, I'm a little uncomfortable, mister._

**Don't worry, so am I.**

**No, no, it's not about sex! Get your minds out of the gutter, will ya?!**

**Oh, sorry Boss.**

_Oh. Yeah, what he said._

**There is a bucket. If you put water in it, how high will you fill it?**

_Full if possible._

**Finally,** **boy or girl?  
**

_Girl. What does it look like?!_

**(Well, I ought to teach you a lesson! Don't disrespect those in more power than you!)  
**

**Hmm... Yes... **

The plasmic view dissipates, leaving just the room, with one addition: A... _Pokémon, was it? _in the middle of the room, combing its fur with its splotched-black right paw. It was a fox, it seemed. Or maybe a dog, he couldn't tell. It had a red bandana around its tan neck fluff and a black bowler hat on its head. Its black eyes met his, and it spoke.

"Very well, you have qualified. Arceus, I need a drink. Anyway, you've shown great courage and hardiness through your answers, yadda yadda, we think you'll do well. Since the protocol Pokémon for those answers was a lizard, I'm going to break the rules a bit and not do that. It just seems cruel."

He checked a small red notebook, flipped the page once, and said "Aha! Here we are, here's a picture if you want to see it." Knuckles took the image, and saw a Pangolin-ish creature. The Echidna nodded and handed the image back to the Pokémon. "Alright," he said, "I'm ready. Although," he added just before the canid left, "Can I keep my hat?"

The possibly-a-fox nodded, his mouth threatening to crack a smile. "Good luck," he said, "you'll need it."

**Crack.**


	2. Chapter 2

Knuckles groaned. _What?! _He hadn't even had enough time to get up by himself before he was awoken by a rude shake to the body. "Wake up, Sandshrew-sama! Come on!" the voice shouted. "Come on!"

Knuckles gave a grunt and yelled "Aright! Aright! Fine! Arceus," _Wait, Arceus?! _"can't a guy get some sleep?!" he asked, eyeing his hat for any damage.

"Guy?" the voice, younger than eight, asked. "But you're a girl!" _What. __**What. **_Knuckles scurried up into a sitting position, staring at his pelvic area. Sure enough, instead of male genitalia, there was the female equivalent. "Gaah!" she yelled, "What is this?!"

The young child, though innocent, replied honestly: "Sama, that is a vulva. All females have them." He wasn't wrong, but Knuckles wished that he hadn't reason for saying such a thing. _Oh well, _he thought, _I can't go about changing the past. _"Uh, sorry to bother you, but, uh, where am I?" she asked, grabbing her hat from in front of the child and putting it on.

The young child laughed. Knuckles asked what was so funny, and he just said "Sandshrew-sama, you talk funny!" Wrong answer, let's just say.

"Where am I?!" she asked, almost yelling, to which the young Pokémon sweat dropped.

"Uh, just outside Nara City, Yamato! The day is 21 November 1872!" the Pokémon said.

Knuckles blinked a few times, the cogs in her head turning visibly to the rest of the world.

"1872?!" the Jamaican asked. _What?! But it was 1993 just yesterday!_

The child shrank by metres he didn't have. "Y-yeah, sama!"

The Sandshrew sat down, exhaling sharply. Time to get accustomed to this. Also, did he say Yamato? She was in Yamato?! Well, she's close to a Time Stone, at least.

"Can you show me around, . . . ?"

"Oh, um, my name is Lunthorne. Yours, Sandshrew-sama?"

The Sandshrew blinked a couple times before saying "Uh, Knuckles the E-er, Sandshrew."

"Are there many Knuckles-es where you come from, Knuckles-sama?"

She tried to remember, but couldn't. "I think so, I can't remember, honestly. It's been so long." _Sigh_, she thought, _why_? "Anyway," she continued, "show me around town. I'll need to know where everything is, now won't I?"

The young Pokémon nodded, motioning to follow her with his red-splotched orange paw. Once he knew she was ready to run, he sped off, leaving the Sandshrew in the dust. _Almost as fast as I was, _she thought. "Hey! Wait up, Lunthorne!" she yelled, running after him.

After about twenty minutes of that, during which they talked, Lunthorne about Yamato, and in fact, the Pokémon world in general, and Knuckles talked a little about where she's from.

Finally here, they both thought, and about damned time. As they entered the town, they saw an assortment of structures in the middle of the town, and a positively ancient looking tower off to the north. In the centre of everything, though, was an absolutely grand building. Its walls were made of marble and ivory, and the pilliars were carved from ebony wood. "Splendid, huh, Knuckles-sama?" Lunthorne said, winded. _Shouldn't have ran that fast, _he thought complacently.

Knuckles just stood and stared. Magnificent, it was.

"What is it?" she asked. Looks like a capital building or something.

"It's the Guild building. Kansai's Guild is spearheaded by a Pidgeotto named Uachdaran."

The Jamaican was very confused, to say the least. "What's a Guild?" she asked.

"A guild is where Pokémon go to train so they can be in a Rescue Team!" he explained, enthusiastically. He had wanted to be in a rescue team since he was a small child. His mother, during her time in the world, fretted about the danger involved, but he'd ignored her. His father was an explorer, a somewhat famous one at that, and died in battle at the hands of the Österichs.

"Wow, that's... actually somewhat intriguing. What's a Rescue Team? Is it what it sounds like?" the once-Echidna asked, her voice legitimately inquisitive.

Lunthorne flicked his wrist, trying to get the extra dust off his paw. "Uh, basically. A Rescue Team is a group of Pokémon that go on missions to find others or to retrieve items. Also, they get paid a tenth of their findings, and the rest goes to the guild." Another thing he wished to say, but couldn't for lack of words, or in fact, knowledge of, was that the Guilds occasionally host tournaments involving staged sieges.

Eventually, they came up to a hotel. Its construct was nothing short of entirely routine. No extravagances here, simple oak panelling covered the walls inside, with carpeted floors coloured with a chequerboard pattern. Natural tones seemed to be the emphasis in the interior design. Outside was a sign showing a stylised moon and bed transfixed under text of a language Knuckles couldn't read, though she suspected it was Japanese, or rather in this world, Yamatan.

The worker behind the counter was a bipedal canid of arguable descriptability. Some would say he most appeared a Jackal, others would say a Wolf. In either case, he appeared unique to Knuckles' new eyes, as not only was his fur colour a strange hue – cyan, but he has a dark Domino mask pattern on his visage. In addition, one of his arms can be described with a strange form of fur-vitiligo, splotches of yellow mixing with the blue. His maroon irises pierced both their souls with pure intensity. This is, undoubtedly, a Pokémon dedicated to his job.

When he asked how long they'd be, those who heard him would've undoubtedly _swooned_ over the deep pitch of his voice complimented by the worn gravelly sound of a Pokémon who's done a lot of yelling. Their minds would instantly fill with fantastic imagery of him in a war, yelling to his comrades to fall back, or maybe charging into the field. That is to say, if they weren't in public. Then again, his working-class dialect and bad posture don't exactly help his case in a society where perfection is stressed as much as this one.

Whatever the case, though, there is a plot to follow. Knuckles replied with "About a week, Oteru-san," the once-Echidna said. It pained her to use Oriental words, when her Anglo ones would do just as well, but there was an appearance to keep, and some shame would be better than being as suspicious as could be.

Once acquainted with their room, she tossed what little she had, namely her hat, onto the bed. It had a simple design passively complimenting the rest of the structure – specifically, a twin mattress, red-and-green argyle bedclothes, and a tan-and-white tartan pillowcase. The bed itself wasn't very special, either. It was smooth on top, white, and the springs aren't demonstrably better or worse than your average mattress'.

Of course, Knuckles never really had used one before, so anything would be like sleeping on a cloud compared to the hard concrete floors of Hidden Palace, and occasionally one of Ivo Robotnik's patented Keep-Em-Outs. Sure enough, as soon as she rolled onto her bed, she let out a moan of comfort, as she hadn't expected something so, in her mind, _luxurious. _After thinking that, she mentally chastised herself because it was suspiciously like how Rouge the Bat spoke and it gave her a bad case of the shivers.

She continued on until she eventually fell asleep, Lunthorne, meanwhile, curled up out more towards the door. Not for any reasons involving bed shortages, but instead because he preferred the feel of the cold hardwood flooring versus the blistering heat of the bed with all its clothes and skirts.

They both drifted off, not noticing in the distance, a suspicious shadow entering Nara City from their forest route.


	3. Chapter 3

?'s POV

Ugh, what the _fuck_ was that?! One moment I'm in the Chaotix HQ waiting for a case, but the next moment I'm trapped by some fox looking thing, and sent _here! _Where even is here?! I'm scared and confused! And alone!

The path I walk is trampled and eroded. The stone is exposed in spots, while thick vegetation grows in others. The dirt feels rough against my white-socked paws. A rustling noise just came from the bushes in front of me. Better check it, then.

As I get closer to the bush, I identify the plant, but not its fruit. It's a raspberry bush, no doubt about that, but its berry is much larger than the typical raspberry, instead rivaling the size of a moderate lemon. Possibly an orange, even. Ow. _OW_. I forgot there was something in there. It kicks up dirt as it flaps its wings, creating a Sand Attack. One thing to say is that it burns. Also, I can't see. That's good.

I blast Flamethrower at the area I last saw it, hopefully burning it to a crisp. Of course, once the dust settles, it reappears, charred but not dead. Ouch, that actually looks fairly painful. Wow. I dodge a Wing Attack sent my way easily, as it isn't a particularly strong bird. Whatever identification it had is now long gone, until it heals.

Huh, I wonder what's for lunch? I haven't had anything since-_ouch! _Augh! _Flamethrower!_Oh, here comes a Quick Attack...

Crack.

Third Person Limited

The engaged Flareon's face was hit at high velocity. Let's simply say that it wasn't too good for his health. He spat out blood and sputum, leaving his mark on the world. The Tiny Bird Pokémon's attacks, while they _did _do damage, and lots of it, were not nearly powerful enough to match the Flareon's, considering that he was an Evolved. In terms one would understand undoubtedly better, the Evolved was a level nine, while the Downfeather a measly five.

The Flareon sharpened his midnight claws, as he jumped up to swipe at the bird. The bird, however, did not want to cooperate. Instead, he flew just out of reach. This plan of the Tiny Bird's quickly fell apart as the clawing quickly turned into a powerful Roll Tackle, otherwise known as a Spin Jump, which knocked the Downfeather out cold.

As the Flame Pokémon turned to walk away, he considered taking the bird with him as some sort of prize. He _then_ reconsidered as he realised how stupid it was, as the bird was clearly intelligent and capable of holding grudges. He himself was proof.

He turned back onto the road, the steady rhythm of his paws hitting the ground taking his mind off the events of today. Instead, he imagined himself at a rock concert, back in his home world. Many would believe remembering the place makes it harder, but it in fact softened the blow for him. Took him out of reality for at least a little while.

His eyes then shone brightly when they caught the sight of civilisation. Cold, tired, and alone wasn't the best combination. Plus, it was nearing night-time, so he'd better get to sleeping soon, otherwise he'd break his sleep schedule. Yes, he had a sleep schedule. He was an Armadillo, not a completely obsessed sixteen year old Sonic the Hedgehog fangirl. Sitting down near the outskirts of town, the Fire Pokémon ate a couple Razz Berries he snuck in while you were reading the beginning.

This place was very strange, he thought, because out of all possible worlds, this was the one to have blocky four-tone green graphics and a low-quality, by 1993 standards, sound chip. He was used to five hundred and twelve colours total, and a decent Yamaha chipset, not this. Or maybe it was the Razz Berries making it look this way. Either way, he sort of liked it.

Getting up, he made it a bullet on his list to explore the town. First thing, though, was to check out that magnificent structure which seems to be the Guild-house.

Lunthorne's POV

I ran across the room, the shiny Quillbadger whom I've come to know as Knuckles, mirroring my actions. The foreigner pushed her slipping hat back on her head. "Come _on_!" she said, "We've got to go!". In the next room lay the most monumental challenge ever: The Pokémon who took the Time Stone. The most evil Pokémon of this generation. A... Kecleon? There he is. The thief is a Kecleon. His body is, instead of red and green, yellow and blue.

The only ones to expect this were his minions and himself. It even took Joltic by surprise. However, now that we knew what we were up against, we decided _not _to use type-advantages and poppycock like that, as it's predictable and would do no good in a fight of strategy, because then the enemy would simply use attacks to negate it.

Our eyes met, and in a brilliant moment of thought connection, we communicated, entirely in accidental Delphon, to first use Tackle, then Flamethrower, then Brick Break.

Let's just say that the Kecleon did not expect us to not exploit Fighting, so when Knuckles' turn was over, he flinched. _Enough time, _I thought, _to unleash a "_Flamethrower!". The Colour Swap Pokémon successfully dodged half of the attack, coming down into the line of fire due to a pesky little thing called gravity. It Burned him, and did some twenty points of damage.

Joltic jumped in the air and Thundershocked the chameleon, causing some extra damage.

Now, it was his turn. The thief's first guard Ice Beamed me, causing massive damage. I was Frozen. Joltic tapped on the ice encasing surrounding my body, before he was shot with a Hyper Beam. It knocked him out cold. The thief himself used Slash on Knuckles, which, while a critical hit, didn't do much damage. It was our turn again. Since she was the only one left, Knuckles performed two Poison Jabs on the Ludicolo Guards and Dug underground. The chameleon jumped back in preparation, but was hit square on, instead. She quickly covered her tracks and was back on our side before long.

The Ludicolo Guards had both flinched from the Poisoning. The Kecleon used Ancient Power. The room dimmed and the fog became thicker as rocks began tumbling down from the ceiling onto Knuckles. She was hit head on by an innumerable amount of rocks, and almost Fainted. However, the trick under her almost literal sleeve was a Gold Berry under her hat. She bit into the fruit, its exquisite juices flowing down her chin, as her will to fight was replenished. She felt renewed energy as she Hardened her claws and Cut he Kecleon's face, blood dripping out of the newly formed gashes.

I, meanwhile, was working on getting this Ice to melt. "Flamethrower!" I yelled, as flames erupted from my open muzzle, but to no avail. She _charged_ a Rollout against both Ludicolo, something I'd never thought possible until now.

The Kecleon mentally and physically prepared himself, his head dripping with sweat, and sent out an Ice Beam. Knuckles saw this and rolled into a ball, as should be expected from Quillbadgers, deflecting the Beam off of her steely quills. The Beam hit me, instead, and broke the icy bonds. Now freed, I walked up to her side, picking up the unconscious Joltic on the way. His Ludicolo grunts used Solar Beam and Brick Break, respectively, on me and Knuckles. She dodged her aggressor, but I wasn't so lucky, what with being on the receiving end of a Brick Break. It was then that I learned what being K. was like. Turns out, you become a ghost for a short while.

"It's time to end this!" the foreigner said.

The Kecleon laughed. "What could _you _do?! Roll at me"

Turns out, that _was _her plan. She charged a Rollout for so long that when she released, her body flung at the thief, knocking him out with little effort. As for the guards, she Poison Jabbed them out cold. Once they were at a level of consciousness satisfactory, she took the Time Stone and the gold the thief had, placed Joltic under her hat, and dragged me out of the cave, throwing a stick of dynamite, which was crafted by a Fardetch'd named Bean, into the cave, blocking their exit.

Or so I thought.

Until I woke up.


	4. Chapter 4

Mighty's POV

Well, time to go to that Guild-house I saw. As I walk there, I see various creatures of different descriptions – one of them was an old... dinosaur? I think? I mean, it's squat and large. Very large. Its face is patterened with white and yellow squares. Then there's a fox that I swear I've seen before – he has a bowler and a blue paisley kerchief. His paw was splotched ebony-black. Possibly a burn, but most likely a fur discolouration. Another that stood out is the only one I remember – the Electric Mouse, Pikachu. This one has ruffled hairlike fur and a hat on. Also worthy of mention is the _extremely horrifying humanlike eyes._

Now that I've walked – or rather, ran past that source of Nightmare Fuel, my eyes wander to the large building in front of me. It was definitely intricately designed. The leaf motif extends all around the building, with the pilliars carved in such a way to tell a story through pictures, many generations of creatures' faces shown on this intricate design. On the overhang, a sign reads something in a language that I'm fairly certain is Japanese.

"Hey!" I yell, the attention of the fox somewhat too important to me that it should be.

He turns. "Yes?" he asks.

"I, uh, I'm not from around here. Can you tell me what that sign says?" I request.

"Guild Meetinghouse. Guildmaster Uachdaran. Nara City, Yamato."

"Thank you," I say, trying my best at manners. Here isn't the place to make enemies.

I quickly make my way up the steps, grooming myself for best presentation, then knock on the door. After the third knock, the door opens to reveal a small Jackal, roughly my size. "Yes?" he asks.

"Yeah, uh, I'd like to apply to this Guild."

The kid blinked at me, before scratching his head and saying "I'll ask about it. Give me your name and address and I'll make sure you get your notice," he explains monotonously, as though it were every day this happened.

"My name is Mighty, and I'm staying at"-I point to the hotel over in the distance-"that hotel over there."

"Okay. Have a good day," the Jackal said, closing the door on Mighty's face.

Knuckles and Lunthorne's POV

She swore she's seen those eyes before. Those cyan tinted eyes, filled with attention. Attention to what, she had no idea. They're just like her friend Mighty's, though. Well, it's no use dwelling on it. Lunthorne, on the other hand, is simply complacent, humming to himself as he wonders what time it is and when lunch is. His eyes are sensitive to light, otherwise he would have looked at the Sun.

During the course of their walk through Nara, Lunthorne felt he should tell Knuckles about the dream he had. She felt that it could be useful in the near future, but not to worry about it right now.

So, they instead went out to the forest to train. Knuckles promised to keep the cub safe, in order to keep her own sanity.

And they trained. Knuckles practiced hardening her currently baby-sized claws, and did achieve a slightly stronger hand. Then, she tested her Spin Dash. Lunthorne instantly recognised it from his dream. "That-That's it, Knuckles-sama! That's the Charged Rollout!" he said, as she flew at a tree.

"Back where I come from, Lunthorne, we call that a 'Spin Dash'. It's a family secret that really not even I know," the once-Echidna Jamaican explained, as she wiped the sweat off her forehead. Just when they thought they were safe, though, a Downfeather came straight for them. However, this one was different. Instead of simply a lust for blood, like most Downfeather, it had a letter. This is strange, especially since she's written nobody since she got here the day before yesterday.

"Hey, Lunthorne? Is this for you, maybe?" she asked.

The Gardie grabbed the letter and reviewed it, checking for everything. Nothing recognisable. "No. It's from that 'Mighty' guy you keep mentioning. Open it?" he questioned.

"Sure," she replied.

_Dear Knuckles,_

_I heard you're here. I'm here. You know, we should probably team up if we're to stay alive. We should wait to see if Espio gets here. It would be especially helpful for him to be around._

_Now, I know you, and I know that you're probably off battling some crazy monsters in a forest, or maybe fighting an ally whom you know as a villian, _

"Long story," Knuckles said. "Keep reading."

_But, when you do get this letter, write back. I'll be in Room 48, the Nara Inn, Nara City. See you there. Also, you might want to take a shower. I don't think you've ever noticed, but you don't ever take showers._

_-Mighty_

"Eh, we've got a bit more time," Knuckles said, "Continue training?"

The cub nodded.

And so they trained more. Knuckles trained with trees in the surrounding area, Lunthorne with any wild Pokémon he finds. Levels gain, and soon the originally Level 7 Knuckles was a Level 14. Even more so with Lunthorne, who went from 3 to 12. They learned a great many moves, and forgot many as well. Lunthorne now has Ember, Odour Sleuth, and Helping Hand. Knuckles has Defence Curl, Rollout, and Fury Cutter. Also, terrible body odour, she really needs to take a shower.

By the time they were done, the sun was starting to set in the sky. The clouds were now shining a dull orange colour, their brilliance, or lack thereof, rather astounding a sight, especially for someone who'd not been out very often. That, really, described both Lunthorne and Knuckles. On their way back to the hotel, they discussed what they'll do when they Evolve. In short, Knuckles will train her quills to harden, and Lunthorne will do more physical attacks.

"So, that's settled?" she asked, her purple-tinted eyes filled with determination.

"Right."

"Alright, well, I'm going to see what Mighty wants. You stay here, if you want," the Sandshrew said, as she walked out of the room. The hallway she entered was plain, simply a wood panelled wall with red industrial carpeting, the type seen in offices, and for that matter, hotels. Fourty-eight was opposite the way she was facing, as evidenced by the door numbers dwindling from twenty. So, she instead turned around and went the other way, the doors all closed except for one, the one in between fourty-seven and fourty-nine. So, that's the one she entered. Inside was a fire-themed fox, not dissimilar to the one she saw just before coming here. The Flame Pokémon sat at his desk, trying to write something, before he noticed the Sandshrew.

"You got lucky," he said, lethargic save for the occasional scribble.

She gave the Spock Look. "How do you know? You haven't even turned," she replied.

That got him to move. "I've seen you around town, Knuckles. We never knew what the other looked like, though. Until, that is, I met that fox."

"Which fox?" the once-Echidna asked.

He seemed to ponder it for a second, before saying "The one that brought us here, actually."

"Wait," she said, "_He_'s here? I didn't even think he was _real,_ let alone strolling the streets of Nara City!"

If his mood wasn't so... stiff, he would have even let out a infinitesimal chuckle. However, what he's been doing was stressful to the point of his self-dismissal. Six times, by now, actually. He was as obsessive over whatever his project was that even diehard Headcanon proof-finder types call him strange and somewhat crazy.

"Of course I'm real," said a voice from the other side of the room. Sitting on the bed, staring complacently at the television set, was that Pokémon she remembers from the Cell. The only different thing is his kerchief is a different colour than usual, and that he is actually smiling for once, if only because the actors just cracked a joke. "What, did you think I was just some sort of ghost interviewer? No, I have things to do down here. You know, places to go, things to see. You've got places to go, too. Don't forget why you're here."

"The Time Stones. Right, that's why I'm here. Get the Time Stone back," she recalled.

"Very good. Now, you just go back to your room, and I'll have this all sorted out tomorrow. Good day!" he called.

"And good riddance!" he muttered as she exited earshot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Please leave a review! I really love it when I get reviews!**

**I decided today was the day I state the obvious: I am a British sixteen year old obsessive Sonic fangirl. Service Games is an American company founded in the 1940s. Game Freak is a Japanese magazine company founded in the Eighties. I am, of course, neither.**

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Inquisitor's POV

Inquisitor is not my name, quite for your information. It is only a stand in. A descriptor, if you will. An idea given by one Pokémon to another. Well, isn't that what a name is, actually? Truthfully, I'd never known. In fact, I may never know. But, really, that is what drives us all on, not knowing. Our eternal quest for knowledge, in the end, gets us nowhere yet everywhere simultaneously. Well, if this so far is _not_ the truth of the word dilly-dally, I can't think of any other definition.

Many hear me as they speak. Even to the extents of their dialectal words. But, really, I am not speaking any variety of either Albionnic or Yamatan. Quite truthfully, I am, in reality, talking in a language that, last time I checked, was quite unique to me and my colleagues.

Yes, you might hear me as a dandy old Yorkshireman, or as a 17th century author, but in truth, I sound closer to Italo-Grecian. Yes, I am quite enamoured with truth, aren't I? Why not change things? Start saying things which are not inherently true, but mean truths? Yes, I believe I should do that.

Quite, well, it is time for the tale, or at least, my side, to begin.

A stranger, yes, quite strange, in the form of a Flareon, had been left stranded on the street. I had gone to ask him his name, before he hastily called my attention. I had granted it, and he had asked me to translate a sign into speech of which he can understand. Quite easily, I might add, I indulged him, reciting the sign's text. Nara Guild Meetinghouse, seen to by Guildmaster Uachdaran, head-quartered in Nara City, Yamato, I had told him. He thanked me for my cooperation and nearly destroyed the door before a young Riolu, no older than ten years old, came to answer it. It was at this point that I decided I wasn't of much use to him any more and left.

We later saw each other at the small general store in the town cluster. Quite cross at something, he was. Quite possibly just his day was poor, or maybe he was told in person that he was rejected for the Nara Guild. Whatever the case, he had been taking large steps throughout the store, and had been breathing raggedly. I stepped up to his profile and saw upon his face the remnants of a dead fly he had swatted on his face. He seemed to soften when he saw my face, I have, to this day, no reasonable guess as to why. "What _is _your name?" I inquired, curious. Such a Pokémon must have a name, surely.

"Mighty," the Flareon replied, his eyebrows raising as to give the appearance of befuddlement, "why do you ask?"

"Oh," I replied, "simple curiosity got a hold of me," I answered. "Oh, and _my _name, by the way, is Rhyne."

"Well, Rhyne, nice to meet you, then. Also, I'm looking for a friend of mine. Would you happen to know a 'Knuckles' by any chance?"

I, at hearing that name, suddenly looked up from the levitating paperwork I was filling out. Setting it in my bag, I grabbed a red notebook from it.

"Yes, actually. Boss gave me the order to bring him here. Here's a photograph of him currently," I said as I removed the image of the Sandshrew, and gave it to him. He studied the image very carefully, before depositing it into my paw and professing his gratitude. He left minutes later, after paying for his purchases. He seemed a nice Pokémon.

Later in that same day, I was walking down a parkway when suddenly, a flock of Downfeather lashed out at me. I had employed what little I had to my perusal as a weapon, mainly sticks, stones, and other hard things, but I ran out eventually, and I was stuck in a tight spot: Either I get rid of them and risk a pay cut for the menial labour I do, or I let them defeat me, and my honour is stripped.

What do I do?! It was at that point that...

?'s POV

**THE TABOO OF THE FanFiction WORLD, MID CHAPTER AUTHOR NOTES! PLAY THE Pokémon Red/Green TITLE MUSIC NOW.**

I came along. Hey hey hey! It's your Daily Cameo here, coming in to take over this joint, at least for this chapter. But, uh, if you leave a review saying "More Sonic!" then I'll come back.:D :* ;) ;)

At which point the author screamed at the Riolu with quills, a.k.a me, to stop putting emoticons into his thoughts, as it transfers into the prose. It looks unprofessional and lazy, and in general trashy, she says.

XD

_What the fuck did I just say, man?! No emoticons!_

"Fine," I said in my thoughts, "fun-killer."

"Immature bastard whose only motivation was a deadish father figure," the author retorted quickly. Grrgh, she makes me _so mad!_... is her intention, anyway.

"Glaswegian," I said back. You know, it's offensive because everyone in Glasgow is _crazy. _I once went to Glasgow and a guy grabbed a bag of popcorn when he noticed that one of the airplanes was about to crash into a populated area.

_To be honest, that is pretty fun to watch. Wait, fuck, you tricked me!_

Ha ha!

_Grrr! Just get back with the story!_

Oh, yeah, forgot about that. Sorry.

So, back to these Downfeather. The old fox guy looked up at me and didn't even care about my quills, he probably's seen weirder shit. So, instead of marveling at that, I take care of these Downfeather. Spin Jump, my oldest friend, helped me a lot in this situation, as it has before. I check every wound inflicted as I take down this flock just for a high score keep. I don't really care about taking them to a _hospital _or anything because they heal like friggin' Rasputin when it comes to nonlethal wounds, which here is basically anything but destroying either the brain or the heart. I've seen Eons sent flying by a Hyperbeam fired from the mouths of vengeful Gyarados and none of them died, unless the Beam was targeted at their brain or heart, as I'd said earlier.

One Downfeather down, with a slash across the chest, two more with the same wound. A Spin Dash should get rid of them fairly quick. I duck down, hands on my head, and rev up. It distracts the Downfeather enough to change their trajectory, them now aiming for him rather than the Eon. I spring up, the vertical Spin Dash taking care of five of them at once, my hard quills, definitely not a sexual euphemism, Cuts through their chest. My rock hard abs, which actually _is _a sexual euphemism, are hidden under my fur. Let's just say that after hearing those squeaks of pain from those glorified pigeons, my... _abs_ used Harden.

It's super effective. Also, wow, I just realized how disgusting that joke is. I apologize, Mom and Dad. I failed you.

Okay, now that I've gotten that out of my system, I look up to see no more Downfeather in the sky. "Good," I say, "they're all gone. I thought I'd have to fight more." I even accentuated the little speech with one of my signature yawns. "It's alright, mister. You can come out now," I said energetically, my quills oscillating between raised and lowered. As he exited, I got a better look at him. He has a couple gashes from those Downfeather, but nothing too serious. Some scars here and there, one on his stomach area, one on his back, a couple on the right leg, and one under his right eye. His fur is a strange color for an Eon, it is sort of a mix between a normal colored one and an Arctic Eon. Dirtier brown than halfway, though. That might be dirt, but I doubt it. His fierce reddish maroon eyes shone with radiant dedication as he glanced at all the Downfeather. "Thank you, mister," he said, "I'd had quite a few run-intos with those bastards. Any help is good help nowadays."

At that moment, the cut on my abdomen, which wasn't there before mind you, started bleeding.

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**No, I'm not the stereotyping one, Sonic is. Also, I chose "quilled Riolu"-type Sonic as a semiplagiaristic Shout Out to another fic which I love, called Explorers of Mobuis. Seriously, read that if you haven't already, it's on both FFNET and deviantART.**

**Also, no, there won't be too many pre-Evolved former Mobians, only Mighty and -.**

**Don't you just love large vocabularies?**

**One more thing:**

**A friend of mine, Wolfy9r9r, her brother attempted suicide on 05/05/2015. He's doing better now, but you should still give him your support. His deviantART account is... I can't help but chuckle at this, XxEmoShadowSk8rxX. Oh, I'm going to Hell, aren't I?**


End file.
